


Never Enough

by Oshun



Series: Prometo [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Competition, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rivals, tight third-person in Javi's POV, training mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 11:04:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20096242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshun/pseuds/Oshun
Summary: Will the ice-show season in the aftermath of PyeongChang be a farewell for Javi and Yuzu or the beginning of something new? Is the first story in a series (Prometo). Been sitting on this for a while, but decided to post this part now, will soon follow with the next (bookmark it if you enjoy it). This is obviously a work of fiction, pure fantasy, beginning to end.





	Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, IgnobleBard, my dear friend and incomparable Beta, aider and abettor par excellence. Any remaining errors are my own.

Only five more cities before the tour would end and Javier had mixed feelings about it drawing to a close. He barely registered the din of the guys talking and laughing, jockeying for their turns in the showers—white noise as a background to the gears turning in his head. All of the ways in which everything was changing was almost too much to process. He had snagged one of the first showers and was already drying off. One learned a few tricks after so many seasons of the spring/summer ice show circuit.  
  
Yuzuru had finished showering also and walked over to him, a towel draped demurely around his hips, a concession to modesty he did not usually observe within the confines of the men’s shower room at the TCC. For all the jokes, giggles, and flirting smirks of his public persona, Yuzuru was an intensely private person. And these were not Yuzuru’s training mates, acquaintances rather than friends. Among everyone here, Javier was the only one he had truly allowed inside and, even in his case, only to a limited degree.  
  
When Yuzuru approached him clad only in a towel, Javier gave him a teasing smile, looking him up and down lasciviously. Yuzuru grinned back—a complete tease—straightening his shoulders and lifting his chin. It was a game they played. He knew Javier liked what he saw. He’d told him often enough in an indirect way. _How can any guy be so damned pretty?_ It wasn’t just Yuzuru’s elegant elfin face with those cupid-bow lips and large deer eyes. He knew his friend’s body only slightly less well than his own and still found it exotic and exciting. His high, rounded skater’s bubble butt and strongly muscled thighs and calves, their solidity always surprising compared to his lithe upper body and his long slender arms. Every time Javier saw him half-dressed he had to suppress a sigh of pleasure. He loved Yuzuru’s body, all of it. He smiled to himself that none of their companions were aware that Yuzuru was a shower rather than a grower, a marked contrast to his androgynous beauty. He loved the way Yuzuru looked naked but had to admit he looked good in that towel as well.   
  
“Javi!” he chirped, smiling, clearly wanting something.  
  
“Hey, Yuzu. What’s up?” Trying to sound relaxed and cool.  
  
“You go out tonight with everyone?”  
  
“I thought I would. I’m starving. Not staying out late though. _Estoy cansado_.” Yuzuru beamed at him, recognizing the Spanish phrase—‘I’m tired.’ That was also a running joke between them—that Spanish might have been easier for him to learn than English. ‘_Maybe vowels are easy, sound more like Japanese_,’ he’d say. But the simple truth was Yuzuru did not love languages and did not spend enough time in company to become more comfortable in English. Doing his university homework (in Japanese, of course), listening to music, playing video games, and training every day did not leave much time for hanging out. And as disarming and puppy-dog friendly as he could appear, Yuzuru was not forthcoming—call him an introvert, guarded, single-minded, focused, whatever. . . . as different as another person with the same passion as could be. To Javier, he remained a puzzle, obscure, mysterious and alluring.  
  
As for himself, Javier was a self-admitted extrovert. He’d always managed to find the time for a social life, no matter how tired or how busy he was. His English got better every year and he could even speak a little Japanese, enough to order in a restaurant, maybe not enough to eavesdrop—he had tried. But still enough for a minimal conversation. The annual ice shows in Japan, the international competitions, and, obviously, his relationship with Miki, had given him opportunities to practice. The truth was that Javier liked to talk.  
  
He also liked Japan a lot, if things had worked out with Miki, he could have imagined, spending part of the year in Japan after retiring and the rest in Spain. But things had not worked out. It was the half of the year he spent in Toronto training under Brian with Yuzuru that had interfered. Each of his girlfriends in turn had complained they could not compete with Yuzuru. Did he really talk about him as much as they said?  
  
“Why don’t you come out with us?” Javier said. “It’s the usual group. Surprise them all!”  
  
“You know I can’t do that. Need to watch my diet and don’t drink,” Yuzuru said primly, which made Javier snort. Yuzuru Hanyu always did exactly what he wanted to do—when and however he felt like doing it. Not his coaches, his mother, or even the Japanese Skating Federation could stand up to him. Certainly not Javier!  
  
He could not resist wheedling a little. “Why not make an exception? No one‘s waiting for you at the hotel tonight. The press and your fans will think you are staying in like you always do.”  
  
It had been a hectic schedule of rehearsals and only slightly less chaotic performances. Most of the group-work at these ice shows, despite the choreographers, boiled down to an orchestrated exercise in improvisation. Individuals presented curtailed versions of old programs and half-mastered choreography for new ones. It was light work compared to competing, but neither did it have the security of performing their individual programs honed to near-perfection. It was not high-pressure but could be tiring and frustrating at times. Those times Yuzuru would chase people on the ice, make goofy jokes, and tease and flirt with Javier.  
  
“Anyway, I want to relax. No resting with all of those noisy people.” Yuzuru scowled. Fans adoringly called it his death glare or murder face. It never failed to make Javier laugh unless he received one of those looks in the middle of a serious disagreement.  
  
“I thought you liked being around all those ‘noisy people.’ You always look like you are having a great time with them at rehearsals.”  
  
“That’s my job here. Now it’s over for tonight. If you’re tired and hungry, then come back to the hotel. Have dinner with me. I call room service. I know what to order. They have a good restaurant. You like Japanese food. We could watch a movie or play some games.”  
  
The invitation was a surprise to Javier. They did not hang out together. Their friendship had followed in an unwavering pattern—except during the down season when it barely existed—best training mates, never more. They shared a comfortable affection bred of familiarity. They had shown off earlier that evening between numbers, smug and happy, stroking across the ice in perfect synchronization, ending with matched Triple Axels. _Eat your hearts out, pair skaters_, Javier had thought. Yuzuru loved to flaunt their singular connection, which sometimes felt to Javier like a poor replacement for real intimacy—not that it wasn’t genuine. Well, their connection was legitimate, but not sufficient.  
  
Things had felt different since the Olympics when Javier had told Yuzuru that he planned to retire. Their time together had always been confined to the TCC and the off-season ice shows, and now with everything changing they would have to form new patterns or lose touch—something neither wanted to happen but had not discussed how to avoid. If Yuzuru wouldn’t go out with a group to socialize in Toronto, where no one recognized him, he certainly could not casually hang out in Japan where he was a mega-star. He’d need his bodyguards. If he wanted time with Yuzu it would have to be here and now.  
  
“Great! I’d love to have dinner with you at the hotel. Sure! Maybe watch a movie. No fun being destroyed by you in a video game. Do they have comfort food?”  
  
“Oohh! Javi very bad. OK! I think you want heavy dishes like Katsudon or Okonomiyaki. They make whatever I ask.” He smirked and winked, knowing how the constant buzz around him on his home turf was hard for Javier to tolerate. “They love me here! Let’s go.”  
  
“You know me too well,” Javier said. Yuzuru crinkled his nose at him and laughed. “Thanks, Yuzu. I know you are careful of what you eat, but I am not in the mood for seaweed salad, steamed fish, and cucumber. ”  
  
“Me too. I mean . . . me neither! We be bad together tonight. I don’t always eat what the dietician tell me.” Javier received the full wattage of the magical smile that had captured countless hearts and launched tens of thousands of Pooh-bears onto the ice. Javier had never pretended to be immune to his charms. “I send everyone away for the night. I have a suite.”  
  
“Ah, yes. The rock-star treatment. Why am I not surprised?”  
  
“Maybe. Or maybe because I always have many meetings, interviews, work to do during these shows. I need more space. Office and bedroom. It was a big mess before but I fix for Javi. Hoped you'd decide to come.”  
  
Javier laughed. Yuzuru’s room in his apartment in Toronto, the few times he had seen it, had been impeccable. Not the result of a quick pick-up, or his mother’s careful housekeeping, but maintained by an obsessive-compulsive neat freak. His iron self-control extended to all sections of his life.  
  
“Don’t laugh at me,” Yuzuru said. “I know Javi is more relaxed person. I like your apartment. How do you say? Comfy?”  
  
“Ha! You saw it twice and both times I nearly killed myself making it presentable for you.”  
  
“It looked like you—warm, comfortable, friendly. Maybe a little cluttered.” He ruffled Javier’s damp hair. Yuzuru loved to touch his curls free from hair product.  
  
Javier could not resist grabbing Yuzuru’s jaw with one hand and leaning in close enough to kiss him, hoping to be rewarded by a mocking frown and a flirty giggle. He wasn’t disappointed.  
  
They dressed quickly and slipped away through a back exit, before most of the others had finished showering, three security guards herding them through the narrow, winding service hallways.  
  
“They have a car waiting,” Yuzuru whispered, blushing shyly. For all the joking and teasing, the attention embarrassed Yuzuru. “I will be glad to be back in Toronto where I can do what I want, walk or take the bus when I want. But will be lonely without you.” He stuck his lower lip out.  
  
Javier didn’t answer. He’d deal with his own feelings about the changes when he had to and not a second sooner. He knew a crash was coming for him. He couldn’t imagine a life without Yuzuru either. When they had settled into the back seat of the car, he reached for Yuzuru’s hand and squeezed hard. The gesture suddenly felt too intimate, fraught with confusing emotions. Javier tried to pull back, but Yuzuru tightened his grip on Javier’s hand. This was their usual duet—never enough and yet often too much. They had always maintained a familiar, pleasurable tension but now, near the end of all this, Javier found it anxiety-producing in a way he never had before. Yuzuru, who was nothing if not perceptive of every nuance of Javier’s moods and hyper self-aware, stared woodenly ahead, but would not release his hand.  
  
The hotel room resembled Javier’s just a couple of doors down the hall except it was at least three times the size and had one enormous bed that looked wider than king-sized. The suite's color scheme was neutral, with shades of browns and tans, minimalist in style but westernized, with none of the grace or understated elegance of an upscale Japanese home or traditional hotel. It could have been in any one of a dozen cities around the globe. Probably cost a lot also. It had an extra-long chocolate-brown sofa and a rectangular table on the far side of the room against the windows furnished with four chairs. The set-up looked like it belonged in a conference room. The suite was larger than many apartments of small families in Tokyo, but this was not Tokyo. No Pooh-bears or flowers were anywhere in evidence, but this was not competition season either. A large TV, visible from the sofa or the bed, was mounted on the wall. Apparently, Yuzuru’s straightening-up had consisted of making the room look uninhabited except for his laptop and the ubiquitous notebooks that Javier knew were filled with mathematical calculations and charts had been stacked at one end of the table. Every elite skater compulsively calculated and re-calculated the point-values of the elements in their programs, but Yuzuru had raised the practice to a science!  
  
Javier laughed to himself, thinking about Yuzuru talking about covering a mistake with what he called “an emergency Quad Sal” or a “YOLO Triple Axel combination” near the end of a program to protect his lead. Javier, according to Brian the only skater in the world whose overall skills rivaled those of Yuzuru, was more likely to blow a perfect program by accidentally doubling an element and losing points. Now with an end in sight, Javier had no regrets of having often felt in Yuzuru’s shadow. Finally, he had reached the level that he felt presented a respectable manifestation of his talent. He had gotten beyond ever feeling competitive with Yuzuru anymore. Now he understood that there was no shame in being bested by a weird preternatural genius on the ice. Still, neither would have climbed so high without the other. They had traded golds and silvers on the competition circuit for years, training together under Brian, each making the other better, supporting and challenging one another. Surprisingly, despite being rivals, they had managed to maintain a solid relationship based on mutual respect and trust, despite the heavy dose of unresolved physical attraction.  
  
Someone knocked on the door. Expecting the food, Yuzuru opened it to discover Johnny outside. No chance of anyone missing him—loud enough for Javier to instantly recognize his voice. Seated in the middle of the sofa, he scooted further down toward the end to be safely out of Johnny’s line of sight, while Johnny with his usual relentless volubility tried to convince Yuzuru to join a group of them for dinner. Finally, Johnny realizing he was having no luck, asked, “Do you know what happened to Javi?”  
  
“Javi?” Yuzuru squeaked, sounding alarmed or puzzled.  
  
“Yes.” Johnny laughed. “Great skater, drop-dead gorgeous. Javier Fernandez. Your unrequited crush. Remember him? Actually, I thought you might finally make your move tonight.”  
  
From sprawling, half-reclining, looking at his phone, waiting for Johnny to leave, Javier jerked into an upright sitting position. He felt the surge of adrenaline that signaled a full shift into protective mode. No one brought that on for him like Yuzuru, who was the furthest thing from a weak little girl in need of his defense. But he couldn’t help his reaction. He forced himself to remain perfectly still, to keep his mouth shut, and not to move.  
  
Yuzuru stood up straighter, squared his shoulders, and lifted his head. “So you come to snoop! Not right, Johnny!” He swung the door all the way open and said in a level, controlled voice. “Javi’s here with me.”  
  
Javier took a deep breath. He slowly stood and walked over to Yuzuru, sliding his arm around his slender waist. The gesture felt somehow more intimate and possessive than he had any right to be. But Yuzuru seemed to like it, wriggling closer.  
  
“Everything’s fine here, Johnny,” Javier said, surprised at how soft his voice came out, not tense or defensive as he feared it might sound. “But forget that you saw me. You know how private Yuzu is, how much pressure he is under, what it’s like for him in Japan.”  
  
“Wow!” Johnny said, almost sounding offended. “Tell him, Yuzu.”  
  
“I talk to Johnny about things—sometimes I need to talk.” Yuzuru’s voice sounded more relaxed. He scrunched his nose up at Johnny. “He understands some things.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Javier said, for what he was not sure, for overreacting, being overly protective or infantilizing Yuzuru, maybe even for feeling a little jealous or out of the loop. What did Yuzuru share with Johnny that he hadn’t shared with him? He thought of Johnny’s teasing words about Yuzuru crushing on him. Well, that was hardly news or unreciprocated. Perfect strangers picked up on that. But they'd never talked about it with one another. Then he wondered for the first-time what Yuzuru said about him—to other skaters or even to Brian or Tracy. He remembered how Brian warned him obliquely a couple of times about his relationship with Yuzuru. “Don’t hurt him, Javi. He’s less worldly than you.” Whatever the fuck _that_ meant! Any fool could see who was most vulnerable in their relationship.  
  
They heard the clanking of a food cart coming down the hall. “Looks like your food is here, boys. Ha! Smells like real food,” Johnny said. “I’m not surprised at you, Javi, but I thought Yuzu only ate what his JSF dietician or his mom cooked for him.” Johnny stepped aside so the server could push the cart by him.  
  
“That was only for Olympics. Now I have a plan like anyone else! Mostly I follow it. Sometimes I don’t.”  
  
“OMG! Is that Katsudon? Jesus, Fernandez! Do you have any idea how many calories that has? Careful! I think Yuzu is trying to kill you.” Yuzuru ignored Johnny, smiling at the server, thanking him with a small bow. The server protested in an incomprehensible stream of rapid Japanese while backing away with a series of apologetic protests and deep obsequious bows.  
  
“Beers and Sake too?” Johnny said with a tone of exaggerated surprise.  
  
“Stop,” Yuzu said. “Bye, bye, Johnny. Have a nice evening.” He gave Johnny his Noh-villain frown. “We sharing! Go to dinner, Johnny. See you tomorrow.”  
  
Javier grinned at Johnny. “Thanks. Have a good time.”  
  
“You two have a good time!” He gave Yuzu two thumbs up. “Nice work, kid. I wondered if you had it in you. I should have known. You always go after what you want.”  
  
“Goodnight, Johnny!” Yuzu tried to scowl again, but giggled instead, while pushing him out of the door.  
  
This was an actual date, Javier thought. Not just one of Yuzuru’s periodic ‘_We-have-to-talk_’ occasions. Johnny was right. Yuzuru was not shy. He had waited until the time was right for him and now Javier found himself the object of his intractable will and irresistible charisma. Not a bad feeling at all.  
  
As though reading his mind, Yuzuru said, “I not trying to seduce you. I have hopes, but no expectations. We can eat dinner and watch a movie if you want. I not be mad if you leave now or later. No matter what, we are always friends.”  
  
Javier took half a step in his direction, focused on his luscious lips, close to kissing him, but decided they had all evening and, if they did do this, he could not bear the thought of it being a quick one-off. He had to allow it to play out to the finish. This could be epic! Like one of Yuzuru’s impossible saves on the ice. Might seem like an impulse, but almost certainly was not. The frisson of excitement was nearly unbearable and utterly undeniable.  
  
Yuzuru expertly divided the huge order of Katsudon into two bowls—roughly one-third and two-thirds.  
  
Javier had to tease him, “You mean I don’t get the whole Katsudon?”  
  
“Silly, Javi! You don’t _want_ it all! Two day's worth of calories and make you feel sick. We share. You will thank me later. Do you want some Sake? I might drink a little of it with you.”  
  
“Oh! I want to see you have a drink!”  
  
“Only one. We skate tomorrow.”  
  
“Only a show!”  
  
“They pay to see Super Javi, not hung-over Javi! And me—I don’t have your body.” He released a sigh of bone-deep exasperation. “I have to work harder. If I had your body maybe I could have . . .”  
  
“What, asshole? Win more medals and break more records than anyone else? Duh! I think you already have. Don’t be arrogant and ridiculous! If you had a body like mine you could not give those performances that look like you’re barely touching the ice. Or without being a survivor and facing physical challenges you wouldn’t have the depth to do those things full of heartbreak and determination. Or, with that baby-angel face, how could you have convinced audiences with “_Seimei_” that you were a legendary scary-powerful, wizard-philosopher and warrior-priest?”  
  
“Ooh, so eloquent tonight. Sorry. I realize how fortunate and privileged I am. So much support. I know Javi struggled alone for so long.”  
  
“Oh, please don’t apologize. It’s just hard to have trained with you for six years and seen what you can do. But I shouldn’t have said that. It was stupid.”  
  
“Not stupid. You made me sound amazing. I should hire you for publicity.”  
  
“Hardly like you need more.”  
  
“Ha! Now the truth. I’m sorry for that too. Not right how everyone asks you about me in interviews.”  
  
“I’m over it. Or should be. I’m where I am because of you. And Brian and Tracy, of course. There have never been competitors who did so much for one another.” Then he laughed. “We’re gonna be real-life legends if we’re not drowned by a shower of kids doing quads.”  
  
“We have best coaches. But Javi! You’re where you are because you are one of the top skaters in the world and train hard.”  
  
“Plushenko enjoys saying no one can beat Yuzu skating a clean program.”  
  
“Ha! What people call back-handed compliment. So many times I not skate clean and then Javi Fernandez is often there to take the gold from me!”  
  
“I was never embarrassed to win silver to your gold!” Javier said, thinking that was another of many differences between the two of them.  
  
“I always hate getting silver, but I hate it less when my good friend Javi wins the gold. I would have been sad to win Olympic gold without you on the podium with me.”  
  
“I have to admit I would have hated that. But I’ve told you many times, some of them in public, that you have always been the champion for me.”  
  
“Because you appreciate real skating,” Yuzuru said laughing and bumping shoulders hard with Javier, causing him to slop Sake on his pants. “One of many reasons I love you so much. Finish your Katsudon, little piggy.”  
  
Javier had eaten most of the rice bowl with its fried pork cutlet smothered in egg and its sinfully rich sauce. “I cannot eat another bite. Did you ever see the Monty Python movie with the restaurant scene where the guy stuffs himself and the waiter keeps offering him ‘just a tiny wafer-thin mint’?”  
  
Yuzuru looked at him with a blank face. “No. Tell me the scene.”  
  
“Never mind. It’s pretty disgusting.”  
  
“I am not so delicate! Don’t assume because Japanese can be formal and respectful that they never overeat or get drunk. Saw it from childhood. Japanese not disapproving about drinking or enjoying food. I careful for my sport. I tease you because you react and make me laugh.”  
  
“Sorry. That scene is gross. You can look it up yourself on Youtube. I know you are different than most Japanese—more physical.”  
  
“With you especially. Although you were the one who started that.”  
  
“I think you could be right. I tried not to but I kept forgetting. Can’t keep my hands off you. I liked you right away. You were so cute and funny and such an epic talent.”  
  
Yuzuru blushed. “You always touch my face so much—I like it! Is that a Spanish thing between male friends?”  
  
“No. Actually, it is not.” Javier grinned and made a flirty face. No self-control, he thought.  
  
“I’m glad it’s not. That makes me special.”  
  
“As if you ever doubted that you were special!” Javier laughed and caressed Yuzuru’s face just for the hell of it and to see if Yuzu would blush. He did not, instead, he leaned in a little closer, a tiny smirk threatening to break free. “Yuzu, at the Olympics, I didn’t mean to cause a scene by whispering in your ear that it was my last time. I had to tell you before the press. I was an emotional wreck too. But I have to admit it was flattering—you hanging all over me and crying and saying you couldn’t do it without me in front of a worldwide audience of millions. Wow! You almost broke the internet with that.”  
  
“Hmm. Not my best moment. But not sorry.”  
  
“We were both extra that night. Not just you.”  
  
“Never just me! Internet filled with pictures of Javi tickling me on the podium. No respect.”  
  
“You love it. That’s why I always do it. It’s a tradition for us.”  
  
They cleaned up the remains of their dinner and put away the two beers unopened. “No beers?” Yuzuru asked.  
  
“Maybe we can save them for tomorrow,” Javier suggested. Yuzuru’s cheeks turned red, which made Javier wonder if he had been too pushy. “Or not. Whatever. If you have other plans . . .”  
  
“If after tonight you still want to come back here tomorrow I will want you.” Javier could not resist pulling him into a light hug—not one of those tight squeak-producing squeezes he had indulged himself with so often. No touch between them could be casual anymore.  
  
Yuzuru had ended up drinking two small cups of Sake and Javi not much more. The truth was that Javier never usually had more than one or two beers despite Yuzuru’s unfounded assumption that he was a big drinker and partier. He could not train the way he did if he was carousing. But he was an extrovert, something Yuzuru never quite understood, although he uncritically accepted him as he was. The teasing about it was gentle and affectionate, never judgmental.  
  
“The big TV has nice picture and lots of channels, but no good movies for us. Want to sit on the sofa and use my laptop?” Yuzuru asked.  
  
“Sure! I’m easy.” He was sure that Yuzu could hook up the laptop to the TV blindfolded if he wanted to.  
  
“So far you are!” Yuzuru said, hurrying over to the desk, grabbing his laptop, and then snuggling up close to him on the couch, with an adorable self-satisfied giggle.  
  
Javier wished he knew if those were nerves or if he really carried that much joy around inside of him in spite of being so driven and intense. A mystery wrapped in an enigma, or did one say it the other way around? Javier laughed at himself. “Do you know there is a six-minute vid on Youtube of every time you giggled while emceeing _Continue with Wings_?”  
  
“I don’t care,” Yuzuru said with a pouty face. “Not worse than other videos fans make of us on Youtube.”  
  
“You mean like Baby Yuzu skating in the Woody costume? How old were you anyway? There should be a better quality tape of that!” Javier almost caused him to drop the laptop pulling him against his chest with one arm and giving him a noogie with his free hand, laughing so hard it brought tears to his eyes, but not kissing him yet, although he couldn’t stop thinking about it.  
  
“You look happy,” Yuzuru said.  
  
_Oh, I am_, he thought. “I was just thinking that you did.”  
  
“You are here with me. The way I like you best, close and warm and smiling.” He released a long, heavy sigh. “Are you still a little mad at me, Javi?”  
  
“I was never angry.” There was no point in denying the distance and his irritation, both in the months before the Olympics and afterward as well. “Why didn’t you return any of my texts before you came back to Toronto last winter? I was sick from worrying about you. Surely you must have known. Brian wouldn’t tell me anything.”  
  
“He couldn’t. For weeks, I not talk to Brian either. He had Tracy call me and she asked if the JSF did not want me to talk about my injury. I told her I the one having trouble talking about it.” He gave Javier that terrible frown, which made them both laugh. “I was dark. So scared. Did you hear I was in a wheelchair for a while?”  
  
“I heard about that much, much later.” His voice sounded more accusing than the worst Yuzu-scowl. His stomach twisted at the memory of Yuzuru returning to Toronto on crutches—his face pale and drawn in pain with an invisible wall around him and week after week of slowly beginning to skate again, but still no jumps. “Read it on the internet after the Olympics.”  
  
“I got better after making a plan with Brian. Before I thought I might never skate again and sometimes I wanted to die.”  
  
“I would have listened, would have done anything . . .”  
  
“No. I could not tell you. Because you were competing too and nervous. At first, I worried about you. Knew how much you wanted an Olympic medal. But finally, you calmed yourself and started training really hard.”  
  
“Might have been easier if we had one another.”  
  
“We did before the end.”  
  
“But it could have been easier sooner!” Javier insisted.  
  
“Or harder!”  
  
“OMG! I read this article by Plushenko where he says you’re the greatest in the world, from another planet, and could win without any quads at all. That kind of made me mad! So, what about me? No such luck. On the other hand, it annoyed me because at the time you had no jumps at all."  
  
Yuzuru shook his head with a tiny pursing of his lips. “Dark days! I wasn’t the only one feeling pressure. I couldn’t throw myself on you.”  
  
“So, it’s different now! Don’t hold back! Throw yourself on me!”  
  
“I can’t get any closer!” Yuzu giggled. He was all but lying on Javier already, a leg over his thigh, one hand tangled in his hair, and the other arm holding them chest to chest. “Can I kiss you?”  
  
Yuzuru looked up into his eyes, his face a perfect picture of hope and longing, of tenderness and caution. This was the moment, the culmination of years of tension and contradictions. He traced Javier’s cheekbones with his long slender figures, following the angle of his jaw and sliding down his neck. Javier held his breath so afraid Yuzuru would stop.  
  
“My beautiful Javi,” he said. “I hoped you don’t say ‘no.’ But I can’t do it until you say ‘yes.’” His voice was soft, matter-of-fact but not tentative or insecure.  
  
“Yes,” Javier whispered, barely audible. He was aware he was the more experienced, but he sounded bashful and easily broken even to himself. “Yes, please.” Like a little boy afraid of being offered his heart’s desire only to have it snatched away before he could grasp it.  
  
Yuzuru grinned, not triumphant, but confident. He kissed Javier on the mouth, slowly at first and then harder and deeper. Finally, he drew back just enough to allow Javier to catch his breath. “You are like a shy girl who never kissed before.”  
  
“Of course, this is entirely different!" _You are my Yuzu!_ he thought, so often desired and always out of reach. "Never imagined ever actually kissing you."  
  
“Bullshit. Javi’s a big liar,” Yuzu whispered, the soft timbre of his voice contradicting his word choices. “You always look at me like you want to eat me alive. At last, I have courage to kiss you. Now you must give me a proper kiss back. I know you know how to do it. You'll teach me! Like you teach me Quad Sal.” His eyes were warm, soft, but Javier knew how serious he was. He was dealing with a stubborn guy. He laughed aloud and ran his fingers down Yuzu's velvety soft cheek. Yuzu smiled back at him and pushed him back onto the sofa, straddling him.  
  
A sudden giddiness beyond joy, beyond want and physical desire, overwhelmed Javier. If any part of him had doubted his feelings, wondering if he could ever fall for a man, those doubts had been firmly laid to rest by Yuzu's purposeful kiss. If Yuzu was as innocent as he implied, his lack of experience was offset by his determination. He realized in an instant how much he wanted Yuzu in his life, not only as a friend but also as a lover. It was overwhelming to have him so close and not to touch him and caress him.  
  
He burned to make love to him, although he wasn't sure what form that would take. He'd found himself a few times getting hard watching Yuzu in his black training gear that fit like a second skin skating a run-through of a program, lost in the music, every movement fluid, sensual and ethereal all at the same time. Yuzu’s face reflected that same level of intensity on an ordinary weekday morning on the ice, surrounded by his rinks mates and coaches busy with their own concerns, as he did at the most important competitions. He could reach that sweet spot where a stumble or fall was impossible, carried by his own private dream. Javier had been jealous of the ice and the music that they could take Yuzu to that place. He'd leave the rink for the showers unable to keep watching and try to imagine Yuzu sucking his cock. As much as he wanted to be touched, as easily as it should have been to imagine that beautiful mouth around him, the image wouldn't come. In his fantasies, he would always drop to his knees before Yuzu and take him to a similar state he had watched him reach on the ice by giving him a world-class blow job. He had certainly never fantasized about any other guy that way.  
  
“You thinking too much!”  
  
“OK. You win. I have thought of kissing you before and a whole lot more.”  
  
“Before! _Before_ means one or two times. Javi, you have been thinking it every time your eyes could find me,” Yuzu whispered. His voice sounded desperate and he shivered in Javier’s arms. Sometimes Yuzu looked like a boy who resembled a beautiful woman or some fascinating creature to whom it was unnecessary or impossible to assign a gender. Then he would laugh or smirk at Javier and he was all-male, with a prominent Adam’s apple, and a wicked, boyish sense of humor. Just as quickly as he would make a joke and play the clown, he could turn tender and serious. “I wanted this for years,” Yuzu moaned.  
  
He cradled Yuzu’s head against his chest, feeling his voice as much as he heard it. Javier had wanted this since those first weeks together at the Cricket Club. He always knew where his training mate was in the rink, in any room, at a party after a competition, and on the ice at every gala. He should have realized the feeling he had when he watched him skate, the sharp spike of joy he felt whenever Yuzu laughed or sighed meant this need had always demanded to be met.  
  
“Do you know what you want?” Yuzuru asked, frowning with his taking-charge intensity of purpose. “You can tell me and we can do it--whatever is it. After you teach me to kiss better.”  
  
“_Stupido_! That last kiss was solid gold! But you’re right, we can do even better.” He wanted to say, ‘_You know nothing Yuzuru Hanyu! If I had come on with more intensity it could have totally spooked you_.’ Instead, he said, “Do you have any idea how long I have wanted you to notice how much your flirting affected me? I never knew if you understood what you were doing. I feared if I acknowledged it then you might stop and I would be left with nothing.”  
  
“I worked very hard to make you want me!” he protested all faux innocence.  
  
“Right. Sure. I can see that now!” Javier laughed, standing up and dragging Yuzuru with him. Two could play this game. “Let’s go to the bed. I prefer not to roll off the sofa and hit my head on the coffee table.”  
  
“Yes!” Yuzuru grinned and giggled. “And we take off all of our clothes. OK?” He reminded Javier of an overgrown puppy, too old for some of his juvenile tricks, but reluctant to let go of them and used to being indulged.  
  
Later, Javier involuntarily whispered. “I’ll never forget this night as long as I live.”  
  
“Me too—I mean, me neither,” said Yuzuru. “But you will stop in Toronto when you come for the ice shows in Canada. Right?” He took a deep breath as though afraid of the answer.  
  
“What do you think?”  
  
“I think you will because if you don’t I haunt you like a _yōkai_ and you will never find peace.”  
  
“I have already resigned myself to the idea that I can never escape you. So it would be futile to try.”  
  



End file.
